About two years ago now, I was going through a time where I would look into the mirror and see nothing but a fat sack who was worth nothing to men and they would never be interested at all. About this time, I began to listen to some new music and came across the artist Mary Lambert. She was a plus size singer who had also battled sexual abuse at a young age and was a lesbian at a time when homosexual marriage was not yet legal and she was prejudiced against.
I became a huge fan of hers and to this day I still am. A lot of you will probably be most familiar with the song that she wrote called “She Keeps Me Warm” which was collaborated with by Macklemore to create “SAME LOVE”. The reason I began to like her so much was because she proved to me that you do not have to be one size to be beautiful.
Lambert created an Instagram campaign all about Body Love and every single day you had to say something that you liked about yourself. I took part in this on Facebook and the amount of support that I received from friends and family was amazing. It made me feel so good about myself and is one of the reasons I am as happy as I am today with my body. Due to this, here on “How To Drink Milk” I am going to use Lambert’s campaign and do it one more time two years on to see how different I feel now!
Embarrassing photos ahead beware!
So, day one of the Body Love Campaign is your hair. Every time you take part in the Body Love Campaign you must say why you love something. I love my hair because it’s colour is really gorgeous and the waves are very becoming for me. Having hair like mine also means that I can do a lot with it for nights out and can essentially “transform” from day to day!
Of course twenty years down the line when I review this I am going to look at these photos and think they’re even worse than the last ones but honestly ladies, you are all beautiful and by taking part in a campaign such as this you will realise that.
The song Body Love by Mary Lambert expertly explains how many of us feel and what we go through as females in a modern society where many of us are not perfect and are not what we believe men really want:
I Know girls who are trying to fit into the social norm
Like squeezing into last year’s prom dress
I know girls who are low rise, mac eye shadow, and binge drinking
I know girls that wonder if they’re disaster and sexy enough to fit in
I know girls who are fleeing bombs from the mosques of their skin
Playing Russian roulette with death; it’s never easy to accept that our bodies are fallible and flawed
But when do we draw the line?
When the knife hits the skin?
Isn’t it the same thing as purging
Because we’re so obsessed with death
Some women just have more guts than others
The funny thing is women like us don’t shoot
We swallow pills, still wanting to be beautiful at the morgue
Still proceeding to put on make-up
Still hoping that the mortician finds us fuckable and attractive
We might as well be buried with our shoes and handbags and scarves, girls
We flirt with death every time we etch a new tally mark into our skin
I know how to split my wrists to reveal a battlefield too
But the time has come for us to reclaim our bodies
Our bodies deserve more than to be war-torn and collateral
Offering this fuckdom as a pathetic means to say,
“I only know how to exist when I am wanted.”
Girls like us are hardly ever wanted, you know
We’re used up and we’re sad and drunk and
Perpetually waiting by the phone for someone to pick up and tell us that we did good
Well, you did good.
(I know I am because I said, “I am.”
My body is home)
Take your hands over your bumpy love body naked
And remember the first time you touched someone
With the sole purpose of learning all of them
Touched them because the light was pretty on them
And the dust in the sunlight danced the way your heart did
Touch yourself with a purpose
Your body is the most beautiful royal
Fathers and uncles are not claiming your knife anymore
Are not your razor, no
Put the sharpness back
Lay your hands flat and feel the surface of scarred skin
I once touched a tree with charred limbs
The stump was still breathing
But the tops were just ashy remains
I wonder what it’s like to come back from that because
Because sometimes I feel forest fires erupting from my wrists
And the smoke signals sent out are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen
Love your body the way your mother loved your baby feet
And brother arm wrapping shoulders, and remember
This is important
You are worth more than who you fuck
You are worth more than a waistline
You are worth more than beer bottles displayed like drunken artifacts.
You are worth more than any naked body could proclaim in the shadows,
More than a man’s whim or your father’s mistake
You are no less valuable as a size 16 than a size 4
You are no less valuable as a 32a than a 36c
Your sexiness is defined by concentric circles within your wood
It is wisdom
You are a goddamn tree stump with leaves sprouting out
I think that Lambert uses beautiful imagery and adjectives to describe the dying mind of females in a society that prejudices them along with their bodies being reflected through religious forms making them appear to be beautiful and something worth worshipping. Girls, you are all beautiful and your bodies are temples that men should worship at. Take care of yourselves and always remember that you are beautiful.
Please, if you take part in the campaign comment or contact me directly!